


Night At The Titan Museum

by Pocket_Full_Of_Rosies



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bottom Eren Yeager, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Divorced Levi, Eventual Sex, F/F, F/M, M/M, Pining Levi, Poop jokes Galore, Reincarnation-ish, Sexual Tension, Top Eren Yeager, Top Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Troublesome Eren, daddy levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pocket_Full_Of_Rosies/pseuds/Pocket_Full_Of_Rosies
Summary: Ever since Levi Ackerman stepped foot into the National Titan Museum, he has been distracted by the wax model of a certain ocean-eyed Titan Shifter. It cost him his job, his marriage, and is straining his relationship with his daughter. Trying to get back on his feet, Levi takes a job as a night watchman at the museum and discovers that the exhibits come to life…including the source of his distraction. Between food raids on the museum cafeteria, Titans booking flights back to their hometown, and a wax model crush who is hell-bent on breaking out of the museum, Levi has his hands full!





	1. Distracted

Levi Ackerman knew that other than the cycle of eat, sleep, _shit,_ there were no fixed variables in life (though sometimes shit gets stuck and there’s a halt in the cycle). Just like how his parents went from Mom and Dad to charcoal in that fire; just like Uncle Kenny being sent upstate after one too many grand theft auto; just like how his prized vacuum cleaner choked on that large rock Isabel had snuck into the house. The vacuum lasted another two cleans before coughing out black smoke, prompting Farlan tossed it in the trash and trying to comfort his distraught husband with a robot cleaner. (Levi still doesn’t trust the Roomba; who knows where the little shit goes when no one’s looking. Probably slacking off under the sofa with the dust mites and Isabel’s old socks, Levi thought as he tracked the robot’s movement from the crack in the door. Forget about dusting, the lazy bastard’s collecting its own layer of grime.)

He knew it was always a possibility, hell it happened to Erwin and Marie just six months ago: Levi even had to stand up in a courtroom and tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the fucking truth that he saw Erwin’s wife make out with the pool boy with the nice behind when he showed up unexpected at the Smith residence

Even though he knew and even prepared himself for the news to an extent, he couldn’t stop his nails digging into his palms or the unpleasant burning that erupted in his left side when Farlan set the papers before him. 

“Levi, look at me.” Farlan spoke softly, not wanting to wake Isabel in the next room. Isabel, who will, he realized, wake up to a child’s worst nightmare in about eight hours. Reluctantly, he looked up and immediately regretted it. Farlan’s light grey eyes were pregnant with sorrow and remnants of the overwhelming love that Levi knows would never truly dissipate. It made him sick. He fixed his soon to be ex with a steely glare, daring the tall blonde to return his bitterness, to stop looking at him in a way that would remind his short, angry self that despite the fall out, this was a good man before him. 

Farlan wasn’t fazed. After ten years of marriage and one of dating, he knew how easily Levi’s defence mechanism was triggered. “This is difficult Levi, but we don’t have to make it more so. You saw for yourself how Erwin and Marie tore each other apart in court. All the shit-spewing, tears, drama…I’m hoping that we can be better than that,” He paused, looking into the shorter man’s rigid stare. “I’m hoping…that Izzy will wake up with a Dad and Daddy who’ll both be there for her without biting each other’s dicks off whenever they’re in the same room.” He gave a small laugh but sombered up quickly. 

Levi wasn’t stupid (but can he be _unreasonable?_ _Yes,_ he can) and he grudgingly reaffirmed that Farlan was still a _good, good,_ man and that the best outcome of this mess would be to end the marriage peacefully. Farlan was a good man, he would be fair and he even said it himself — Isabel would still have both her Dad and Daddy in her life (even though Farlan’s new flame, that Yan, unsure of his role, would be tossed into this game of Izzy In The Middle).

Farlan pulled out a black pen and tapped it at the dotted line at the bottom of the form. “Levi. Will you sign it?” He asks. 

The black-haired man stared at the paper, then the pen, then Farlan. He gave an exasperated sigh and ran his hand through his dark locks. “Fuck it all, Farlan. Fuck you and your fucking good intentions.” _Fuck you for being a reasonable guy and a good father._

Farlan grinned. “You have. On multiple occasions. In fact, I think the first time was when we were kicked out of McDonald's —” 

“Give me the damn pen.” Levi wasn’t too keen on a trip down the memory lane of sexapades. 

Farlan handed it over so that the tip of the pen was facing upwards, like a stick Vlad the Impaler might’ve wanted to create human kababs on. As Levi held the cylindrical object in his hand, a switch flips and he was overcome by a nostalgic yet unfamiliar feeling. He saw Farlan’s puzzled expression when he clicked the pen with the tip pointing, but then promptly swivels the object around so that the point faced his wrist. 

For a moment he saw a razor sharp blade in his hand. 

What does one call this feeling, he bristled, an act driven by anger? Desperation? Regret? No…instinct, he realized, instinct and a whole damn lot of practice. 

“Levi…” 

He imagined drawing his hand back to the side, then in a smooth spinning motion, swinging his weapon across the table, shredding those papers. That would be satisfying, he thought, spinning round and round as those irksome papers and their implications shatter. Destroying this threat to _his_ humanity and marriage, and tomorrow he’d wake up at 6, kiss his husband good morning, pack Isabel’s lunch box and — 

“Levi.” Farlan’s voice came out harsher than he expected. 

Then the pen was just a pen and the only thing that spins was his runny stool of a mind as he grappled to keep himself in control. 

Levi signed the papers.  

* * *

 He wanted to blame Hange for everything but doesn’t have the heart to. Not when Hange was the only one who stuck with him through his shitshow of a life, through the turds and the runs.

He met Hange the summer before high school: the Zoë family had been in the neighbourhood for about a week when police cruisers pulled up the the house next door and banged on the door. Levi had opened the door and was quickly ushered out of the house by a motherly policewoman who probably mistook his small frame for a much younger child’s (“Hi sweetie, I’m a police officer, why don’t you come with me?”).

He saw the bespectacled brunette with the dopey, maniacal grin peering at him as she sat on Uncle Kenny’s hedges (which _Levi_ maintained, of course) and shot her a death glare. Obviously the little bitch doesn’t know how long it takes to get those hedges into perfect shape. 

Minutes later, Uncle Kenny was dragged out of the house, cursing and screaming as the cops slammed him against the hood of the cruiser, twisting his arms behind his back. 

“Kenny Ackerman, you are under arrest for three counts of driving under influence, two counts of solicitation, and the murder of Alma Reiss. Mr. Dok is also pressing civil charges against you for fertilizing his shrubs doggy-style. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of justice…”

Levi was a bright kid and knowing his uncle’s shenanigans, he wasn’t surprised — almost _anticipated_ — that it would be _bye bye Uncle Kenny_ for at least the next twenty years. What he didn’t foresee, however, was the animalistic roar as the brunette in the bushes jumped him, salivating. 

 “Ackerman? You’re the Ackermans? Like _that_ Ackerman? Like the old family?” She gushed.

 Levi was annoyed and his head hurt from hitting the pavement. “Get off me, Shitty Glasses,” he muttered as he pushed her off. “The hell you’re talking about, crazy bitch. I’ve always been an Ackerman, what about it?”

 Apparently a lot, as Levi was to find out in the next two months before school began. Hange’s parents were archeologists, and she fully intended to follow in their footsteps. Their specialty?

 “Titans! Levi, Titans! The national pride of Paradis!” She exclaimed one afternoon when Levi arrived from his foster family’s. “Did you know, unlike dinosaur fossils, which are found all over the world, Paradis is the only place where Titan remains have ever been found?”

Hange’s folks had relocated to the Shinganshina district in Maria after receiving an offer to work on a newly discovered excavation site. Other than buried relics, they were also interested in local legends regarding Titans, as well as associations between Titans and humans. She explained that according to come old texts that her father had found, there was a certain Ackerman family that had been closely involved in historic events such as the Great Titan War, The Fall of Shinganshina and whatnot.

“…and father spent hours tracing lineages and family trees and found out that _that_ particular branch of the Ackerman family still lives in Shinganshina! Must be you then, short stack!”She ruffled his hair. “Must be fate that we met!” 

Levi had heard of Titans before, of course, in history class, but it only managed to peak his interest as much as photosynthesis did: meaning, not a lot. Perhaps it was out of grudging fondness for Hange that he listened to her tales of Titans, Shifters and the feud with the neighbouring country of Marley. The fact that she spiked Levi’s high school bullies’ water canteens with Methylene blue and made them piss Smurf blood also won her points with Levi. She was one of the two people he could possibly consider as friends, the other being Erwin Smith, the son of his foster parents. 

Which was why when thirty-one year old Levi, married seven years to Farlan Church and co-parent to a darling five-year old Isabel Magnolia Church-Ackerman, got Hange’s excited call and an official invitation in the mail, he immediately planned a family trip to the National Titan Museum. 

Being old friends with the museum’s head archeologist has its perks, one of which being full access to all exhibits on opening day. Little Isabel was wild with excitement as in front of a bristling crowd, Hange presented her excavation finds.

“…next ladies and gentlemen, please look to your right. There you can see a map of the scouting formation used by the Survey Corp on the 57th Expedition. This expedition, by the way, is considered one of the most important landmarks in Human-Titan history, as it is the first expedition for many war heroes including the legendary Mikasa Ackerman —” Here, Hange smirked at Levi and gestured to a wax figure of a beautiful Asian-looking woman in the standard military uniform, wearing a red scarf. Her arms were outstretched as she held her twin swords, a vicious look in her dark eyes. “— yes, yes, from _that_ very Ackerman Family. The 57th was also when humans first became aware of the existence of other Titan Shifters, such as Annie Leonhart, the Female Titan, and will lead to hypotheses of the identities of Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover, the Armoured and Colossal Titans.” 

Hange began walking again and the large tour group followed her closely into a large exhibit room, its exhibitions covered in drapes. Her voice became excited. “Now, everyone, this discovery, is, my _magnum opus,_ I don’t think I’ll ever again find anything like it! Voila!” 

 The drapes lifted up amidst sounds of amazement. Isabel screamed and Levi felt his heart pound for reasons unknown. 

“The hardened shell of Eren Jaëger, the Rogue Titan! Preserved almost perfectly!” 

The large humanoid shell had its legs bent, hands drawn into fists, ready to charge at the audience. The longer Levi stared at the beast, the louder his heart pounded until he could no longer hear the crowds or Farlan’s concerned “Are you alright?” and he just stared and stared at the display, wondering in his heart, why oh why was Eren trapped in a contained place again? 

_Eren?_

That snapped him out of his trance and he felt his seizing muscles relax. _Eren?_ Did he really just refer to a _Titan carcass_ by name like Hange had dubbed two of her findings Sawney and Bean? Christ, he was hanging out with that woman too much. 

And then they were onto the next exhibit where life-sized wax models were made of the Female, Rogue, Armoured and Colossal Titans and their shifters. Levi couldn't tear his eyes away from the figurine of Eren Jaëger, finding himself mesmerized with the shaggy brown hair, piercing eyes like the ocean, and that expression of anger moulded into his features. 

He wondered what the boy would look like smiling. He was tempted to ask Hange to have the wax model remade, and Eren given a smile (Crap he did it again, didn’t he? Called the thing by its name).

_Eren…Eren…Eren…_

He didn’t pay attention to the rest of the tour, having left behind his consciousness in the Shifter Exhibit. He vaguely remembered Marie (who was still together with Erwin at the time) asking, “What’s that, Hange?” 

“This? Oh, not sure. We found it along with the Rogue Titan’s remains. According to the scriptures we found, it’s called the Coordinate. Not sure whats it’s for though. Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me!”

That night as he laid in bed, Farlan’s snores sounding far off in the distance, Levi stared into the ceiling, imagining a world where the Titans roamed and the original Ackerman family and Survey Corps fought for humanity. What would it be like, he thought, if he, Levi Ackerman, had been born 2000 years ago? What would it be like, if he existed in the same world with…

“Eren…” 

* * *

Levi’s marriage quickly fell through. The year after that fateful visit to the museum, he noticed Farlan growing distant. The year after that, his husband turned to him one night and asked, “Who is Aaron?”

Levi didn’t want to talk about it; _Eren_ wasn’t something that he should talk to Farlan about. He wasn't sure why, but the feeling is strong in his gut, insistent, like an upset bowel demanding a toilet rendezvous. He doesn’t remember what excuse he gives Farlan but the taller man definitely was not pleased. 

It was just Levi’s luck that unbeknownst to him, he’d mutter Eren’s name in his sleep, dousing cold water on Farlan each time he heard some man’s name slip through his husband’s lips. It was just Levi’s luck that there was an Aaron Hotchner working in the same precinct as him, and that on the day Farlan dropped by unexpected, Hotchner had spilt his coffee over Levi’s pant and decided a wipe-down would quell the look in Levi’s eyes that screamed bloody murder. 

The next year, Farlan Church met Yan at a company social. The night when Levi responded to an ADW and was shot in the leg, Farlan dropped Isabel off at his mothers and took his new lover to a hotel. 

* * *

“To friends, to f-family, to finally _divorcing_ my ph-philandering wife!” Erwin slurred as he raised his glass, its contents sloshing in his shaky hand. Levi watched with amusement as the normally serious and professional thirty-six year old put his arm around his boss, Dot Pixis, and the two men hooted in drunken glee surrounded by those attending the ‘Erwin-Is-Finally-Free-Except-For-Alimony’ party at Club 104. In celebration of Erwin’s liberation, Pixis, that rich old fart rented out half the club.

Levi took a drink. He mentally thanked Farlan wherever he was to have talked him out of going to court. He really didn’t need some old pot-bellied judge legally delegating away his money.

“So,” Hange said as she monitored Erwin’s antics from the corner of her eye. “Have you thought about the job offer? It’ll be awesome to be working together! We can even carpool! Oh, I know! Once you get your employee’s clearance, I can get you behind the scenes and I can show you my newest discovery.” Her grin sharpened as she licked her lips and dropped her voice down to a whisper. “Top secret: I might’ve found a fossilized Titan penis! Isn’t that amazing? It might be a genetic mutation or a specimen of a phase in the evolution of the Titan physiology!”

“Being in the same facility as you is a good enough reason to turn it down,” Levi muttered, glaring into his whisky. “What a joke, going from decorated cop to a fucking _night watchman._ A night watchman that _works with you._ ”

“The pay’s good,” the brunette piped. “Almost as much as you made on the force.” Her voice died as she saw the sour bitterness spread on the black-haired man’s face as he recalled his former profession.

“Levi,” Hange and Levi were seated in a booth along the wall, close enough to Erwin’s party to videotape at his drunken antics to horrify the man the next morning, but far enough as to hold a somewhat serious conversation.

“What happened that night?” She asked softly. “Getting shot…it isn’t like you.”

If it were anyone other than Hange, Levi would send them a glare and respond with “I got shot. Is it ‘like’ anyone to get shot? Fuck off and replace the shit in your skull with a brain.”

But it was Hange, and he knew why she was asking: Levi had graduated first in his year from the police academy at twenty years old, and prior to that night, he hadn’t gotten so much as a stubbed toe in his fourteen years of service. Levi was a careful man; even back in high school when he faced off against his bullies, he’d calculate his enemy’s strength carefully and would attack and finish his opponent off quickly in as few moves as possible.

Levi was quick. Levi was careful. Levi was efficient.

But that night, even his captain and the patrol officers sensed something was wrong with him. When he woke up in the hospital, he heard his captain tell Farlan, “He seemed very distracted.”

The accident left Levi with a limp that will follow his steps for the rest of his life. Levi was _still_ quick, _still_ careful, _still_ efficient. But alas, it wasn’t enough and he was _still_ forced into early retirement.

He rocked his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh from side to side. “I got distracted.” He said simply.

Hange tilted her head. “By?”

He almost let the name slip out his lips but caught himself at the last moment. _By what, you ask Hange? By the fucking hot ass wax model in your museum._

It had become quite (alarmingly) normal for Levi to find himself plagued with thoughts of the Shifter Exhibit and the wax model of Eren Jaëger. On the night of his accident, somewhere between exiting his cruiser and pointing his gun at the armed suspect, his mind had slipped away into the Exhibit where instead of that angry scowl, Eren the wax model was smiling, and Levi could see the ocean’s waves in his eyes and —

Bam. Bullet in his leg.

The agonizing pain of metal shredding flesh had been his wake up call. Levi cannot be distracted anymore. He was a thirty-four year old man with a divorce behind him, living off his pension, and responsible for child support payments. Speaking of said child…He and Farlan have been divorced for about six months and while he had been _distracted_ (God, he’s starting to hate that word), Isabel made herself comfortable in a new family structure: the pictures that she drew at school were no longer titled “Me and Dad and Daddy”, but rather “Me and Dad and Yan”. When Levi first saw the drawings, he promptly ripped them off Farlan’s fridge in disgust, seeing Yan’s gangly body on Isabel’s right side instead of the disproportionally short stick figure that he used to complain about (oh, how he wishes she would draw those again!). While he was recovering from his injury and being _distracted,_ Yan had officially become a player in the game of Izzy in the Middle and now it was _Levi_ who was unsure of his position.

He couldn’t be distracted anymore. He lost his job, his marriage…he wasn’t going to lose Isabel as well.

Leaving out the part about his obsession over a museum exhibit, he vented out his frustrations in alcohol-fuelled rambling. Hange was a good listener, and at the end of his rambles, she wisely diagnosed him with mid-life crisis. Not quite accurate, but Hange bought him another drink and he slipped into a blissful daze where the only things he thought of were Titan penises and Erwin’s eyebrows tap-dancing in wake of his finalized divorce.

It was around five in the morning when Levi’s head began to clear and he registered the loud shouting. Hang had also fallen asleep, her head resting on Levi’s lap when she jolted out of slumber at the ruckus. “What’s going on,” she murmured sleepily.

Pushing Hange off his lap, Levi stood and made his way over to the crowd. “Dykes!” He heard a loud obnoxious voice yell and he immediately frowned.

“What the hell did you call her?” Mike had some guy with a pompadour by the throat, eyes livid as the smaller man let out a choked sound.

“Mike —” Nanaba was pale and frightened as she put her hand on the tall blond’s shoulder. Her other hand held a small girl with short dark hair close to her body. “Let it go. It-he isn’t worth it!”

Levi connected the dots. The dude with the pompadour was Nanaba’s ex, Gelgar, whom she had broken up with when she came out a few months ago. He somewhat remembered being introduced to Nanaba’s girlfriend at one of Erwin’s dinner parties (Nina? Is that her name? No, right, Nifa). 

Gelgar jerked out of Mike’s grasp and fixed his former girlfriend with a scowl. “I’m not worth it? That ain’t what you said last time I had you comin’ on my dick!” He then sneered at the small dark-haired girl who looks like she was about to wet herself. “Doubt little kitty here has the ah, excuse the saying, _the balls_ to keep Nana satisfied.” His friends, a gang of six burly men stinking of porta potties sniggered as Mike and Erwin size them up.

“Kind of amazing Nifa here doesn’t need balls at all to satisfy her.” Levi drawled, getting the group’s attention.

“Butt out, midget faggot.” Gelgar growled, and Levi could only assume the animosity was the man still not over Levi kicking his ass in monopoly at Erwin’s birthday party. “My friends here don’t appreciate the smell of dried cum shoved up your ass. Better run before they get you.”

Erwin’s hand was then on his wrist. “Levi.” He said warningly. His face was still smeared with an ugly red blush but his brain must no have been as water-logged as he appears.

“That’s rich, I thought the smell was my cum up your mother’s cunt.” Levi snapped.

Then all hell broke loose.

Gelgar lunged at him and Levi licked his lips in anticipation. He threw punches and blocked the taller man’s uncoordinated attacks. In the corner of his eye, he saw Mike jump and take out two of Gelgar’s thick friends and they disappeared into a cloud of arms and legs. He heard Hange’s battle cry as she brandished two wine bottles like swords and charged into the fight. He saw Nanaba and Nifa chucking whatever they could get their hands on at the men, doing their best to help. He hears a disgusting squelch and saw Erwin on his hands and knees, puking his guts out.

They were outnumbered, but Levi knew that he can turn it around. He slugged Gelgar one last time and the man fell to the ground. For what it was worth, Levi stuck his fingers into his hair, ruining the pompadour (then wished for a bottle of Purell). Then he body checked a man in overalls that had been creeping in on a distracted Mike. He and the man squared off, trading punches when the man suddenly retreated and he was knocked over with a blow to the head. His vision went white for a minute and when he saw again, his head was bleeding. Behind him, Gelgar, panting, had a broken wine bottle in his hands.

“Fucker.” Levi spat out.

Hands dragged him onto his feet and held him in a headlock as Gelgar swung the sharp shard — 

A foot planted itself deftly into Gelgar’s face. Gelgar was sent crashing into the wine racks and the foot’s twin slammed into the head of the man holding Levi. Levi pulled himself out of the man’s grip and saw his saviour charge at two unsuspecting men cornering Nanaba and Nifa. With the growl of a predatory animal, the unknown man took each punk by an arm and swung them to the floor. When a third (who had previously been engaging Mike) saw his peers’ downfall, he barrelled towards the man only to be knocked off his feet as the brown-haired man’s foot slammed into his shins.

Levi was stunned by the man — no, the _boy’s_ combat abilities. He had easily taken out five of the seven attackers by himself! The youth was dressed in a form-fitting green shirt and white slacks. As Levi’s eyes drank him in from feet up, the youth began to look harrowingly familiar. When he reached the tanned face, he felt as though he had been slugged again. He felt oxygen leave his lungs, his heart rate sped up as his steel grey eyes met a pair of ocean eyes and furrowed brows.

“Eren…” he breathed and there was a startled look in those aquamarines.

Levi stared at ‘Eren'. ‘Eren’ stared back.

The boy’s brows furrowed even more as he regarded the older man. “How do you know my —”

“EREN!”

The final thug, having slung Mike to the side, slammed himself into the boy, sending him flying just as the female voice screamed. Then, before anyone’s eyes registered what happened, the thug found himself on the floor, a sharp blade pointed at his jugular by a military-uniform-clad woman.

“How _dare_ you attack him, do you have a death wish, punk?” She spat out and quickly, ‘Eren’ and a young man with his blond hair cut to resemble a coconut grabbed her back by both arms, dragging her off.

“C-calm down, Mikasa!” Levi heard the small blond whisper. “Eren, we have to go back, _now._ ” And with an insisted tug, the blonde pulled both Eren and the black-haired woman towards the back entrance.

It took a moment for Levi to realize what happened. A quick scan of the now destroyed club found that the trio was gone. Heart palpitating, Levi snapped out of his rigor and raced towards the back entrance, needing to see, needing to confirm —

He heard shouting.

“Go back? Never! I refuse to submit! We — humanity — have been reminded since that day! If we stay behind those walls, we aren’t any better than cattle! Livestock! That’s what we are! The _humiliation_ , don’t you feel it? Whenever they enter the walls, they look at us like we’re pieces of meat! I will never give up! I will be free! I will go outside —”

Levi turned the corner to see a man throw a garbage bag over Eren’s head and drag him out the back door. A small strawberry blond woman took the black-haired woman and the small blond man by their hands and quickly followed the man who kidnapped Eren.

“Wait!” Levi yelled and he gave chase. He bursted out to the dark parking lot and shivered as the cold air made contact with his sweaty body, leaving behind an unpleasant stiff feeling.

The man slammed the back door of a van with the words National Titan Museum and the museum logo stamped on its doors as the woman started the engine.

Levi growled. Like fucking hell are they getting away from him.

The woman squeaked as she nervously eyed the short angry man as her companion, frenzied, urged her. “Hurry up, Petra, _they_ can’t be seen. Gotta get their asses back to the muse —” There was the muffled sound of a whine of pain.

“Where the fucking hell are you taking them — ”

“Levi!” Hange was out of breath as she followed him into the parking lot. “What are you — Oh.” She said simply as she saw the van and the driver. “Oh.” She ran her hand along Levi’s tense bicep and held him in place.

“Good evening, or rather, morning, Petra, Oluo.” Hange chirped as though she didn’t need stitches for that gash on her forehead.

“Hange, they’re kidnappers,” Levi said and was promptly ignored by all.

“Morning Dr. Zoë,” came Petra’s nervous greeting.

Silence followed and Levi thought he heard sounds of a struggle emanating from the van and a “Shhh!”

“Well,” Petra said as Oluo made a garbled choking sound.“We need to get going. Yup, gotta meet the swing shift and finish our rounds. Yup. Also Oluo just bit his tongue and I think he really bit it off this time.”

Hange nodded, as though she understood. “Don’t let me keep you then.”

“Hange, they’ve got three teenagers in the backseat. One of them has a garbage bag over his head. He could be suffocating.” _Eren_ could be suffocating.

Hange patted his arm sympathetically. “The wonders you see through beer-goggles.” She slung an arm around him and pushed him towards the back door as the van drove away. “I myself saw Erwin taking his eyebrows out for a walk. Probably let them go pee-pee on Marie’s lawn.”

* * *

 

It was later when he was sprawled out on Hange’s couch, watching the first feeble rays of the sun break through the darkness when he said, “I’ll take it.”

 Hange perched herself on the couch’s arm. “You’ll take what?”

 “The job.” He was tired, needed sleep, and felt like he could hurl at any minute. A shitty state of mind to be making an important decision, but the decision had been made the moment his eyes met those of the boy in the club.

 “When can I get a fucking interview?” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi's first night at work is interrupted by strange memories, sexy dreams, and a mysterious intruder.

For the life of him, Levi could never figure out if Sundays were the start of the week or the end. He remembered his first-grade teacher had done a fair bit of drilling into her students that no, despite all the nursery songs that start the week off on _Monday,_ it was the _second_ day of the week. The Hebrews and Christians also say Sunday’s the first, but the International Organization for Standardization says it’s the last. Levi thought it made sense for Sunday to be the last: it was the last day of the week _end,_ after all, after five working days doing professional adult shit and one of doing personal adult shit. Not the week- _start._

In all honesty, Levi couldn’t care less how the day was dichotomized; his dilemma was much more personal. Sundays, as decided by his ex-husband, a third party mediator, and his own begrudging self, were currently the only full day of the week when Isabel would live with Levi. (“Until you figure things out,” Farlan had explained when they were going over the joint custody paperwork and Levi really didn’t have any ammunition to object.) Did Levi _want_ Sunday to be the first day of the week or the last? Did he want to _start_ his week with Isabel or _end_ his week tucking the darling girl in bed? 

Even if he gave all the shit in the world, that was one dilemma that he still couldn’t resolve.

When he stepped onto Farlan’s porch that morning, the door was wrenched back before he could even knock as a fiery head of hair canon-balled itself into his midriff. 

“Daddy!” Isabel shrieked gleefully and proceeded to glomp his leg like a koala. Then she let go of his leg, fixed her face into a pout and opened her arms. “Daddy, carry me!”

“Spoiled brat,” Levi tried his best to sound stern as he hugged the girl and lifted her up, grimacing under the weight. “What’s your Dad been feeding you, kid? If you keep wanting to be carried like a baby all the time, I should cancel my gym subscription and use you as a dumbbell.” 

He heard Farlan laugh from inside the house. “Now, now Levi, don’t go giving our daughter a weight complex.” Levi locked the door behind him and carrying Isabel, he followed the sound of Farlan’s voice into the kitchen. Farlan had his laptop running on the kitchen table as he peered over through his reading glasses, smirking.

Levi arched an eyebrow at the girl. “Do you have a weight complex?”

“ _Yes._ ” She said, a bit too happily for her to know the meaning of the words. Farlan chortled again and even Levi couldn’t help the upward twitch of his lip. 

“C’mon kiddo, get your bag and we’ll grab brunch. We’ll be out of your Dad’s hair soon.” An expression of disgust overcame his features as he saw the greasiness of his ex’s blond locks. “Fuck, I’m not using that expression again. That’s fucking gross. Hurry up Isabel — your Dad needs some alone time to take a fucking shower.” Then realizing his slip of the tongue (three times), he thought it was appropriate to follow up his mistake with another “Fuck.” 

“Language, Levi,” Farlan warned. 

“Language, Daddy,” Isabel parroted, holding out her greedy palms. 

“Get your stuff, brat,” Levi said as he reached into his pant pocket and shoved a dollar bill into her hand. “You owe me a quarter.” Giggling, Isabel frolicked down the halls, clutching the bill like it was a bar of gold. 

The two men watched her go before the shorter of the two sighed.

“You’re probably not getting that quarter back.” Farlan forecasted and Levi wouldn’t bet against his word.

“Sorry. For my swearing. Not for calling you out on your lack of hygiene.” Farlan gave him a cheeky grin as he shoved his head near Levi’s face and laughed as the dark-haired man backed away instantly. “Gross.” 

“Didn’t think I was _that_ gross yet. I showered two days ago.” Farlan grinned at Levi’s look of absolute disgust as he lifted an arm and sniffed. Levi’s eye twitched. How he managed to share a bed with this man for eleven years was quite beyond him. “Don’t think I smell bad. Hey Levi, can you check if I smell?” 

“Either get the fuck away from me or get your ass into the shower.” Levi eyed the blond warily as he positioned himself with the table between them. Farlan was standing as well, looking torn between following Levi’s advice or chasing him around the table like characters in an old cartoon. Watching Farlan from across the table, Levi was hit by a wave of nostalgia. How had they fallen so easily into their old games? It was strange, really that six months ago, it was on this exact same kitchen table that Farlan got him to sign their divorce papers. Now here they were, goofing off like they had in college, during their honeymoon — when they first played with Isabel after bringing her home from the adoption agency. 

“Please Levi? Yan’s dropping by later and I need to know if it is _absolutely necessary_ that I take a shower.” 

And just like that, the reality of the situation hit him like a shit-ton of bricks. They were a divorced couple sharing custody of a child. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“If I had to put up with your disgusting ass for the past ten years then I’m sure Yan can do it too.” Levi said smoothly, betraying nothing. 

But Farlan was Farlan (and an empath, as Hange had joked on many instances) and immediately sensed a change in his ex’s mood. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you’re right. I should probably shower before he comes. Sorry ‘bout the sight. I’ve been really busy this week. Two of my clients suddenly had emergency projects pop up. Bad timing.” Farlan’s eye lids were drooping under the weight of his heavy eye-bags. 

“We’ll be out of your way.” Levi said quietly. 

They were silent for a while, listening the sudden belting of “Let it Go!” coming from down the hall. Isabel was obviously in no hurry to leave. 

“By the way,” Farlan said as he rubbed his eyes and gave Levi a smile. “Congratulations on the new job! I guess this means we should rework the schedule?”

“Yeah,” Levi had gotten the job at the museum almost immediately after his interview. One sit down with Museum Director Rico Brzenska later, Levi had walked out of the interview room with his hope in humanity restored: in Director Brzenska, he had found a ‘kindred spirit’, with whom he shared an intense twenty minutes of swapping intel on different brands of stain removers. If Levi had been more jovial of a man, he might’ve pulled an Anne Shirley and declared himself and the woman to be ‘bosom friends’. 

But the job required him to be at the museum from 8 pm to 6 in the morning during all weekdays. Meaning, that Levi could no longer have Isabel over for Tuesday night tacos or Thursday night movie marathons. 

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll work something out.” And once again Levi was stricken by Farlan’s goodness and internally kicked himself for being a short and crass misanthrope. “By the way,” Farlan walk up to the fridge (the “Me and Dad and Yan” picture had been taken down, Bless your soul, Farlan) and untacked a large sheet of paper and held it out to him. 

It read, in messy marker: CONGRAJULASHONS DADDY!

Isabel’s smiling stick figure was holding hands with a familiar stick figure that was barely taller, with a mess of black Crayola crayon hair. The figures were smack in the centre of the paper, which was empty other than the apple trees that grew along the borders. 

“She needs to work on her spelling.” Levi said. He was holding the paper too close to his face. Farlan doubted that Levi suddenly became nearsighted overnight and by the sudden colour in the normally pale man’s ears, he safely concluded that Levi was trying to hide his bashfulness. 

“Yeah, she does. Her teacher made a note of that in her last homework assignment.”

They fell silent again, listening to Isabel’s footsteps grow louder. Seconds later, Isabel bounded into the kitchen, overnight bag dragging on the floor and her school bag on her back (the quarter nowhere in sight). She kissed Farlan on the cheek before taking Levi’s hand and leading him to the door. 

“Farlan,” the taller man’s head swivelled to look at Levi, whose expression looked as though there was a pile of dung beneath his nose. “You should probably go for that shower.”

* * *

 

One pizza dinner and a Transformers marathon later, Levi stepped out of the shower (he washed his hair thrice after recalling Farlan’s oily hair), into a house much too quiet for a rumbustious kid with an affinity for live Disney movies. 

“Isabel? Time for bed,” Levi called, glancing at the clock. Quarter to ten. “Isabel?” 

He found the girl sitting at the small desk placed next to his larger one in the study. Isabel was hunched over the drawing that Farlan had given to him, crayons clutched in her chubby fists as she scribbled. 

“Just wait, Daddy…and…done!” She grinned and held up her finished work. 

She had added more stick figures to her drawing. As far as Levi could discern, on Isabel’s left side were Farlan and Yan, and next to them were the tall figures of Erwin and Mike (whose head was half cut-off by the paper’s edge). Levi’s stick figure held Isabel’s hand on the right and strangely, there was a blank space next to him. On the other side of the blank space was Hange holding hands with her boyfriend Moblit Berner. 

Levi’s index finger touched the blank space. “What’s this for, kid?”

Isabel’s grin became so toothy that Levi was worried she had an overbite. “For your boyfriend, of course!” She exclaimed much to her father’s surprise. “ _I’ve got a blank space, baby, to write your boyfriend’s name!_ ” She giggled at her attempt to match her ad-libbed words to the song’s tempo. 

Levi ruffled her hair fondly. “Well, sorry to disappoint, but that’s going to stay a blank space for a while.” 

There was a tiny frown and look of confusion on Isabel’s face. “But Daddy, what about ‘Aaron’? I heard Dad and Yan talking and…”

Levi froze. _Damn Farlan…could he have?_ He was sure that he himself had never let any of his distractions slip in front of his daughter. Was it possible that perhaps, Farlan had mentioned his… _untimely_ wipe-down with that brat from the precinct? And their daughter overheard? 

And Eren…

_NO._ He firmly repeated that word in his mind and counted to ten. He had made his resolve long ago: Isabel over distractions. Isabel over Titan carcass. _Isabel over Eren_. _Don’t get distracted…don’t get distracted…_ he chanted to himself. 

Then he gave his daughter a small smile and squeeze of her shoulders as he lifted her out of her chair and carried her to bed. “Nosy little brat, aren’t you? Time for bed; you need sleep to grow tall.”

“I don’t need sleep to grow taller than you, Daddy,” Isabel yawned as she crawled under the covers. 

Levi pinched her cheek. “Little brat,” he said again and watched his little girl fall asleep. He sighed and rubbed his own tired eyes. He was doing the right thing, he was a good father. So far so good, no distractions. In hindsight, taking a job at the place where Ere— where the _carcass_ was really wasn’t his brightest idea; it was like tossing dung beetles into heaping piles of shit. Giving the addict his high. 

But he will refrain, he told himself, he had to. He gave his daughter one last glance before turning off the lights. “Get your shit together, Ackerman. Isabel’s all you’ve got left.”

* * *

 

To say the woman was nervous was the understatement of the century. Levi stared at her in mild irritation as she fidgeted and stuttered. 

“—really sorry about all this, Mr. Ackerman; usually there’s four of us watching at night but it’s getting really busy with the collaboration with the Marley National Museum coming up and Ms. Brzenska’s making Eld and Gunther run errands and I’m helping out with paperwork. Oluo would be here but he —”

“Bit his tongue off in the middle of a kidnapping?” Levi cut in dryly. 

Petra Ral wasn’t the greatest actress. The moment Rico had brought Levi to the night guards’ office, she had squeaked loudly and frantically stuck out her hand, loudly insisting that this was the first time they met. Though it had been difficult to see the woman clearly in the dimly lit parking lot, Hange had called her out by her name, and her voice was pretty much a dead giveaway. 

She tensed. “Mr. Ackerman, Oluo wouldn’t do something like that! Are you mistaking him for someone? I mean, I’m pretty sure kidnapping is illegal and —” She jabbered on nervously.

Levi held out a hand in a ‘stop’ motion, feeling an oncoming headache from her jitteriness. 

“First, Levi’s fine.” Mr. Ackerman was the douchebag with approximately five more years left in state penitentiary. “Second,” here, he took a deep breath as his words betrayed every screaming fibre of his being. “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what you and your bleeding friend do during work hours as long as you don’t involve me in your shit. Kid, I’ve got bills to pay and I need to keep this job.” He said as he scrutinized his uniform, feeling stiff with the crisp material brushing against his skin. Rico had assured him that the dark blue slacks and matching jacket were brand new but Levi was itching to dump it all into his trusty Maytag at home. 

Petra was wearing her own uniform and stuck her hands into the pant pockets, twisting them there nervously. “Levi, what you saw that night, um, it’ll all be explained but I assure you that no one was harmed.” 

“Except Oluo.”

She gave a small smile. “Unfortunately he didn’t bleed out.”

Levi quickly tsk-ed and started his tour of the museum.

Petra seemed much more at ease around him after that quip of his and Levi actually found her to be quite pleasant company as she took him on a tour of the museum, explaining the various tasks he was to complete. But when they reached a certain showroom, Levi planted his feet into the shiny floor tiles and refused to enter. 

“I’ll pass on this one. Seen it with my daughter,” he hastily explained. “Doubt there’s much more you can say about it.” Beyond the doors was the Shifter Exhibition. Levi did not want to have any thoughts of that in his head like a lingering shitstain on the pants of some brat who popped a turd. Not on his first night of work, anyways. Not when he made up his mind to move on with his life and stop getting distracted. _For Isabel’s sake._ He walked away briskly, Petra at his heels. 

Petra gave him a weird look but said nothing about it. “…and up there is our new exhibit. Well, sort of new, anyways. The research isn’t quite sound concerning the subject so Dr. Zoë and Dr. Berner are constantly having the exhibit updated with each new break in the research.” She herself seemed giddy. “The Marleyans are quite eager for this collaboration to happen — they’ve been hounding Director Brzenska about it ever since Dr. Zoë found the Coordinate with the Rogue Titan’s remains!” 

Levi mulled the information in his head. “Coordinate?”

They arrived at a new exhibition hall. Charts, descriptions and minor relics lined the walls, leading to the room’s centrepiece: a haggard war horn, looking as though torn off of a raging beast. The tusk was decorated with strange symbols, but when Levi got closer, he saw that the etchings were actually miniature drawings, creepy images of tiny humans and large monstrous Titans. All faded, yet darkened in areas in a substance that Levi thought might be age-old blood. 

“Creepy,” he surmised. 

He supposed it did give off a certain aura that demanded a copious amount of attention, but in his opinion, it didn’t warrant the amount of attention and money the museum was flushing down the shitter for it. 

Petra pointed at it. “Yup, that’s it! I know it doesn’t look like much but Dr. Zoë assures us that there just has to be something about it for, you know,” she said pointedly. 

“For what.” 

“For the Rogue Titan to give his life for it.” 

There was a moment of silence as Levi contemplated the words. “The Rogue Titan…you mean Eren Jaëger?”

“Yes,” Petra put a hand on his sleeve and led him out of the exhibition hall. “According to Dr. Zoë’s findings, it seems that Eren Jaëger, in his Titan form, decided that horn over there was worth risking his life over. We’re still not sure how it happened, but Eren was buried alive retrieving the Coordinate.” 

Buried alive. That meant Eren had been stuck on land, in the ground for the past 2000 years. In his head, Levi saw the boy with the beautiful aquamarine jewels that had plagued him since his first visit to the museum. 

“Did he ever make it to the ocean?” Levi asked quietly. 

Petra gave him a weird look as she unlocked the door to the night guards’ office. “What? Um…I don’t think Dr. Zoë mentioned anything about an ocean. How is that relevant? I mean, they were all stuck inside walls on land, weren’t they?” 

Levi grimaced and mentally chastised himself for his wandering mind. “Never mind.”

* * *

He gave himself a solid ‘B’ for his restraint that night. Could use some improvement, but he still gave himself a mental pat on the back when he managed to hold his tongue on the subject for the rest of the night. 

His meager contributions to the conversation went unnoticed by the bubbly redhead. She talked on like there was no tomorrow, about the exhibits, the museum workers, her colleagues (especially her altercations with Oluo) and Levi learned some important information: he made Petra confirm with him twice that it was alright to sleep on the job. 

His tour with Petra ended half an hour later when she was called away on her cell phone by Hange (“Hi Shorty! Has being around Titans triggered your growth spurt yet?”). Before she left, she held out a dirty looking brochure to him. 

“Your instruction manual, Levi.” She said as he picked up the paper with the tips of his nails, grimacing at what looked like soya sauce stains. 

“For what? How to walk around a museum at night?”

She gave a small smile that nearly inspired him to pull a Da Vinci and make the girl his own Mona Lisa (until he recalled the chicken scratches he produced throughout grade school). 

“Let’s just say…there are some things that I can’t exactly walk you through, Levi. Like, you wouldn’t get the point if I explained or you’d think I’m mad. At least that’s what I thought when Eld first told me.” She gave a small chuckle. “It’s like a survival guide… on how to deal with this.” She waved her arms, gesturing to the space around them, her expression becoming somewhat worried. 

He was only slightly put off by her crypticness. “Petra, either spit or swallow —” A blush overcame her face and he realized how suggestive it sounded “ — what exactly are you trying to say?” He chuckled. “Deal with what? Petra, what do you take me for? I’m a thirty-something ex-cop, pretty sure I can live in a museum for a night without a survival guide. Unless you’re expecting me to fight some fifteen-metre giant, quit your worrying.”

It was hard for the cop in him not to take offence at her insinuations: did he seem just so incapable? Incapable of guarding a few rooms? Walking around with a flashlight? Getting rid of intruders? If he finds out that the manual was a how-to for apprehending and cuffing a robber, well, let’s just say that Oluo would have the girl as a hospital roommate. 

Petra’s cell beeped again and glancing at it quickly, she grimaced and picked up her messenger bag. “Oluo’s getting released in the morning,” she said, noticing his interest. “Needs a ride back.” Clasping Levi’s hand in hers, her honey-coloured eyes and furrow-ed brows looked serious. “Just promise me that you’d give it a read, alright? Read it…and we can discuss it in the morning.”

She reminded him of grade school teacher admonishing a kid who didn’t do the daily readings for the reading circle. Levi wondered if it was appropriate to tell her that she might be in the wrong profession. 

“Just don’t let anything in…or out.” 

He found her latter words weird, but still, he nodded and waved the brochure in a mock salute. “Whatever.” 

Petra looked slightly relieved, though still hesitant to leave him on his own as she turned to leave. “Alright then. See you in the morning, Levi.” 

She paused in the doorway. 

“Oh and Levi?”

“What.”

“Don’t get eaten.”

* * *

He couldn’t see the sky. 

There were too many damn trees. Their arms stretched across the space, leaves spurting from the branches like voluminous, opaque clouds, obscuring both the brilliant sun and the endless blues that he thought he _should_ be allowed to see. At least, at this moment, when his lungs are losing the tug-of-war to bring new oxygen into his body, when he could no longer feel his arms and legs; when he could feel his own life blood abandoning him, leaving him so _cold, cold, cold_ … _at least now,_ he thought, he should be allowed to lay his eyes on something nice. 

Something foreign.

Something outside the walls.

Something _beautiful._

His eyesight is the next thing he loses. The next to leave him behind. It was a like a screen that was slowly shifted over his retinas, and it became a pain to even see leaves instead of blotches of black. 

His eyesight was leaving him. Leaving him, like Farlan, like Isabel, like Petra, Eld, Gunther, Oluo, Erwin — 

“Captain!” 

There was a large moving figure before him, a giant monster, advancing. Certainly, one footstep would crush his little body, and he prepared himself to feel the weight before his skin would rip and let his innards gush out. Then, with his fading eyesight, he saw another, smaller figure before him. A man, and on his back, on his billowing green cape, was a sigil of a crossed blue and white wing. 

The Wings of Freedom. 

“Captain Levi!” 

And suddenly, he saw again. His sight renewed for the last time as he took in the mesmerizing colour of the ocean, captured in two large orbs. They were framed with dark lashes that caught each droplet of water as the ocean came alive with the boy’s emotions. 

Strong arms were around him but alas, he could no longer feel that familiar warmth he had gotten used to on those late nights in his office. 

“Eren…”

And when the darkness made its reappearance, he let it be this time. After all, his wish had been granted: he had seen the most beautiful thing in the world. 

He couldn’t speak, his mouth and throat filling with liquid, but he still tried. _Eren, don’t cry, don’t cry for me…smile for me, Eren._

“It’s too cruel,” Eren choked out, “What was all of this for?” In his hand, he gripped a fang-like object before howling in his anguish and flinging it away behind him. “What was all of it for if I can’t have you? All I need to be happy is you, Captain! How can I exist in a world without you?” 

_Eren, Eren, Eren. I feel the same. I too…want to exist in a place next to you._

His eyes were closing, yet he thought he would be at peace with the last thing he saw to be his most cherished person. But the image was tarnished; at the last minute, through his horrid vision, he saw a mass of black arise behind the boy.

Gargling, he tried to warn him as he left. 

Eren, behind you!

Eren!

EREN!

* * *

Levi gasped as he awoke to the museum’s cool air. Gagging and choking, he coughed, trying to get the liquid out of his lungs before he realized the substance had come and left with his dream. He had been dozing in his chair in the office, watching the multiple security monitors before him. His heartbeat steadying, he quickly glanced at each screen, ensuring no movement. He glanced at the clock: 11:58 PM. 

He sagged into the chair, feeling drained. _Eren…Eren…EREN!_ His mind screamed, and that name could not be warded off his mind. 

“Eren,” he finally let the name slip through his lips as he clutched his throbbing head in his hands. “Who are you, Eren? Why do you…” 

_Why do you affect me so?_

Groaning, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes. There was nothing stirring in the museum and Petra had said that he was allowed to nap. 

And so he did. 

Levi fell back into slumber at 11:59 PM. 

When the clock’s hand caught hold of the new day, unbeknownst to the sleeping man, dark figures began moving on the monitors.

Somewhere in his dreams, Levi heard what sounded like the blaring of a war horn. 

* * *

He was dreaming again. He had to be. 

His bum leg was stiff and still felt unnatural on his body when moved, but thoughts of that stopped as he felt his young lover worship the limb, kissing and caressing the part of him he hated the most. 

“Eren…” he breathed. “Stop that…g-get on with it.”

The brunet shook his head. “Captain, why don’t you relax and let me… _captivate_ you? I want you to be only fascinated by me, nothing else. Next time this leg aches, please don’t think of the injury; think of me between your legs,” he placed open mouth kisses, inching his way to where leg met pelvis. “Think about…what I’m going to do next.” 

The ocean was dark and storming. And Levi would gladly be shipwrecked in the waves. And wrecked he was when he felt that hot, hot mouth around his sensitive head, then that smart tongue teasing dipping into his slit. He only managed to catch his breath before crying out as his entire length was squeezed with warm, wet walls. He could see the boy’s bobbing eyes, the dark mischief in his eyes as he purposely let his tongue swirl around the head of his cock when he bobbed up. 

“Ah, ah, Eren, I’m…I’m so — fuck! C-Close, Erennn —”

Then a sound of disappointment left his lips as Eren, smirking, tightened his fingers around the base of his cock and popped the angry-looking member out of his mouth. 

“You shitty brat- _ah!”_

The tension in his groin was unbearable. He could feel the waves of pleasure rushing south, only to congregate into a mass of frustration as they found the passage to release blocked.The burning pressure slammed against its cage, screaming to be let out, but Eren only tightened his grip more, laughing as he did so. 

“You’re so hot, Captain. Literally,” the brat had the nerve to chuckle as he felt along his older lover’s length with his free hand. “Your cock is burning!”

“Shitty b-brat, do something!” His voice came out a whine.

Eren blinked his large beautiful eyes. “Captain!” He admonished. “Is this how you ask for something nice? How unrefined! Undisciplined!You’re the one who told me, ‘When it comes to teaching discipline, pain is the most effective way.’” If it were possible, he squeezed even tighter and a scream nearly tore out of the shorter man’s mouth. “Is it painful, Captain Levi?”

There was a moment of silence before the dark-haired man croaked, “Eren…I-I…just please…please…let me”

“Please what?”

A gasp, then he threw away his pride. “Let me come.” His voice was small.

The brunet shrugged. “I guess I can let you…but we do it my way.”

The lanky man settled himself lower on his lover’s body, said man’s eyes snapping open as he felt hot breaths beneath his balls, and his legs being draped over a strong shoulder. 

“Eren! Brat, t-that’s fucking disgusting —”

“Dirty?” Came an innocent question. 

“Yes, fucking dirty — Fuck!” 

He felt the hot tongue, but not where he expected. 

He was trembling. “E-rennn, w-what — where, _Eren_!”

The young man lifted his head to speak. “I can’t believe you can actually feel from here, sir.” He appeared truly amazed at the capabilities of the older man’s body. “I’m jealous.” Then his tongue was back, swiping at the spot between his balls and his hole. As his lover whined and mewed, he felt the spot harden as he externally massaged his prostate. 

He removed his hand from his Captain’s cock, fondled his balls, then gave the head a hard suck as his hand massaged the older man’s special area. There was nothing to muffle the older man’s cries as he exploded onto his chest and stomach, dizzy, and pulse hammering at insane speeds. 

He was only vaguely aware of the fingers venturing to prod at his hole. 

“Oi-i, brat,” he managed to keep his voice levelled. “Did you forget I’m old? I can’t get it up like that.” He held up a finger. 

But the young man only shrugged as he lathered himself with his lover’s come. 

“Not even for me, Captain? I’d bet you could. It’s a good thing you came so much! Cuz that’s all the lube you’ll get.” He said sweetly. 

Levi felt the head at his hole. His ass began clenching instinctively at the touch and he began salivating in anticipation. 

“Tch, stupid cocky brat. Do it then,” he challenged. “Do it and I’ll give your chores next week to your stallion friend.” 

The ocean-eyed Adonis smiled and leaned down to cover his lover’s lips with his own. Then against his mouth, he whispered, “Yes, Captain.” 

* * *

The second time Levi woke that night, he felt even worse. The increased heart rate, sweating, and breathlessness were still there, along with a new visitor: the wetness that was growing stiffer each passing second, in his pants. 

“God fucking dammit!” He growled as he paced in the office, for the love of him, not knowing what to do. He didn’t exactly have a change of clothes (what’s the probability of finding a spare uniform lying around?) or fresh boxers. He winced at the thought of going commando; the stiff pant material chaffing against his sensitive softening cock. Sighing and throwing up his hands, he surrendered himself to the state he was in, feeling more and more miserable. 

Finding something to distract himself from the discomfort, his eyes landed on the dirty ‘survival guide’. He flopped back into the chair and carelessly flipped the brochure open, becoming more and more mystified as he read the contents: 

NATIONAL TITAN MUSEUM SURVIVAL MANUAL

  1. There’s an emergency kit in the night guards’ office.
  2. Lock up the place. Don’t let the SB get out.
  3. There’s a GPS tracker on SB. Give the GPS to MA so she knows where SB is at all times. Otherwise, she will be worried and will kill someone. 
  4. Lock up the cafeteria or the museum will go bankrupt. 
  5. Separate the Survey Corps soldiers and the Military Police or they will start a civil war. 
  6. Don’t get stepped on. It WILL hurt. 
  7. Tie the horses to the bench.
  8. Keep mentioning how expensive airplane tickets to Marley are. 
  9. Confiscate booze from the Garrison soldiers.
  10. Do NOT mention the word ‘Titan’ to SB; he will not stop talking. If already too late, there’s a pair of earplugs under the service desk. 



Levi’s eyebrows rose higher and higher on his forehead, threatening to touch his hairline. Dumbfounded, he set the paper down, unsure how to feel; though ‘foolish’ would be a clear choice. It was a joke, it had to be. Way to go Petra and crew; prank the newbie. Probably Petra herself had been duped with this joke manual and thought it would be a nice touch to continue the initiation game for each new employee. 

Snorting, he brushed the paper away from him and cast a wary eye on the monitors. No movement. _‘SB’,_ he thought, _I thought ‘Son of a Bitch’ was abbreviated as ‘SOB’. Youngsters these days; times and slang change I guess._

Then in his peripheral vision, he saw something dart across the screen of the monitor. He was up in a flash. Shit! There was an intruder in the museum and here Levi was, napping and falling for a stupid prank while wearing cum-stained pants. 

Muttering a string of curses, he grabbed his baton and flashlight and burst out of the office. On the screen, the intruder was moving from the west wing to the museum entrance, and Levi cut through the Trost Exhibit. 

“Freeze!” He shouted, feeling every bit like the former cop he had been, as he saw a lanky figure pretty much charge into the front doors. The bastard only ran faster hearing Levi’s voice. The ex-cop growled and gave chase, cursing his bad leg for slowing him down. He chased the suspect out the front doors and into the cold night, his prey eventually veering off course to jump and grab onto the tall museum fence, pulling himself up. 

“Leave me alone, you stupid afro!” 

Levi halted as the guy suddenly spoke. He was grappling onto the fence, with his back facing Levi. A soft wind swept by and the night sky became cloudless; and the intruder was bathed in a column of moonlight. He was wearing what Levi recognized to be the standard military uniform of the Survey Corps. Levi groaned miserably; either the guy had stolen museum property off an exhibit (for which he’d be screwed for negligence), or he was a cosplayer who snuck in for some after hour fanboying over the paraphernalia (in which case Levi really didn’t want to deal with him). 

“Afro…?”

The guy clucked his tongue and even if Levi couldn’t see his face, he knew he had to be rolling his eyes. 

“I’m serious, Oluo, back off. Back off or I’ll rip you a new one in a place where if Petra knew, she’d stuff it with your severed tongue.”

Levi was mildly disturbed by the threat. 

“Save your threats for your target, kid,” he said and the guy froze, just having realized his pursuant wasn’t Oluo. “Now get your ass down here so I don’t have to rip _you_ a new one to stuff your big head into. Bet you’d look great like that in your mugshot.” 

And then the guy turned around, face illuminated by the moonlight, rendering the older man breathless. Shaggy brown tresses. Glittering ocean eyes. That same aura of hope, anger, and lingering sadness. 

Though at the moment, his expression was just that of a pissed off brat. 

“…well guess what, shorty? At least Oluo’s ass is high enough in the air for someone to _find_ his hole. Some unlucky bloke’s gonna break his back after stooping so low to stick it up your —”

“Eren.” He breathed, and a warmth spread in his chest as he realized how right the name sounded off his lips. 

Eren was silent for a moment, then a comical cocktail of surprise, alarm, and sheepishness overcame his face. His eyes grew as large as saucers and his mouth hung open to let out a splutter. Levi especially liked that last emotion; for it was responsible for the barely visible blush in the bad lighting. He wanted to drag the brat into the museum and turn on all the lights just so he could survey his face. 

“Ahhh!” Eren screamed, jabbing a finger at the older man. “You’re that wussy midget stalker from the bar that night!” 

Levi also wanted to drag him into the museum, turn on all the lights, so that he could get a good viewing of his fist kissing Eren’s face for that insult. He took out his handcuffs. 

“Now you’ve done it brat. Get your ass down here before I come up to get you.” He growled, twirling the cuffs around one finger. “Explain yourself! The fuck do you mean by ‘wussy stalker’”?

“You left out ‘midget’. But that’s self-explanatory I guess.” 

Levi felt his blood pressure rise. “Get the fuck down. _Now._ Or you’ll be wishing all I did was rip you a new hole.”

But the stupid brat only laughed and stuck his tongue out at him, before climbing higher. 

“As if I’d hand myself over to some guy who needs me to save his ass from weak homophobic thugs!” The brat said in a sing-song voice. His viridian eyes twinkled with mirth as the shorter man, livid, dropped his flashlight and baton, put his foot on the fence. “Not to mention some creepy old man who knows my name — ”

He gave an unmanly yelp as he felt fingers clawing into his ass. Confused, he looked down to see the dark haired man right beneath him, hand gripping the fabric of his uniform pants. 

“Dude, you’re fast! I had like, a whole two meters on you!” Eren twisted and kicked, trying to shake his pursuant off. “What were you in a past life, an abnormal?”

“What was I?” Levi gave an insistent tug on the pants, pulling them down to expose black boxers. Just because he found the brat absolutely _captivating_ didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed enough to give him the full Bad Cop Levi treatment. Eren gave a high-pitched shriek. “I was fucking Satan.”

Eren’s legs were swinging wildly, catching Levi twice in the shoulder. He wasn’t helping his own case, as his struggling caused his pants to slip down even more and his boxers to shimmy down a few inches, presenting Levi with the nice view of a defined butt crack. 

But of course, it did nothing to hinder his smart mouth. “You were fucking Satan?” Eren gasped between kicks. “Damn, you sure like them hot. So you’re a midget wussy and _shallow_ stalker. What happened in this lifetime? Did His Hot and Unholiness dump you cuz his back broke from finding your ass?” 

It took a minute for Levi’s brain to finish processing and saving the delicious view of the defined butt crack. Then the brat’s words sunk in. Calmly, Levi slid down on the fence, while still holding onto the back of Eren’s pants. Then, stepping a foot onto the bottom bar of the fence and bending his knee for support, he gave a hard yank on the pants, catching Eren by surprise. Eren let out a scream as startled, he let go of the railing and lost his balance. So he fell down. Fell onto Levi. 

More specifically, Levi’s bent knee caught him right in between the legs. 

Howling in pain, Eren flopped off the older man’s knee and onto the ground, rolling about as his hands jumped to massage his groin. 

“Dickhead!” He screamed, with tears in the corner of his eyes. “I know! You ARE Satan! You were probably always jacking off in your past life —” he gave a whimper and shut up as Levi moved a foot dangerously close to his family jewels. 

“You get burned if you play with fire, kid.” Levi snapped and reached out to pry Eren’s right hand away from his junk and cuff it to the fence. 

If he recalled his earlier wet dream, past-life Satan Levi was definitely getting some; not just from his own hand. He dazed out for a moment, relishing in the memory of Eren kissing his way up his lower body. 

Sighing, he rubbed his temples, feeling an oncoming headache. His mind was spinning again and all he wanted was to plop into bed and wake up the next day with a clear mind. Or, he thought, looking at the brat. Or, he’d like to plop into bed _with_ the brat and go to sleep the next morning after a night of mind-blowing fucking. 

_Stop it, Levi. Stop right there. He’s a DISTRACTION. Remember Isabel!_

He braced himself against the fence, feeling his heart pound on and for a moment he feared it would suddenly give out, and he’d collapse like a fatigued runner after a marathon. What the hell was going on? He let his eyes sweep over the boy on the ground. Furrowed brows. A mop of chestnut brown hair. Smooth and tanned skin. Eyes that must’ve sapped some ocean of its splendour. A body hot enough to cause global warming. He shut his eyes at the last thought. _Stop there,_ his objective self warned, but he thought at least for tonight, he should be allowed to let his mind wander. 

Where the hell did this brat come from? His name was Eren, like Eren Jaëger, the Rogue Titan. He looked exactly like the wax model in the museum. Was this some sort of cosmic joke? No, most likely the boy was some sort of freaky wax model _model;_ like he did sit-ins for people to sculpt his face or something. Maybe Hangë thought this guy looked like Eren Jaëger and decided to give the wax model his likeliness; or maybe the forensic sculptor noticed that the boy looked like the real deal and used him as further inspiration. And tonight, the brat just decided to break in to stare at himself to satisfy his narcissistic ego. 

That must be it. 

“Kid, what’s your name?” He said. 

Still looking pained, a muffled “Eren Jaëger” came from his mouth.

“No, really. I get that you’re cosplaying Eren Jaëger but what’s your _real_ name? You’ll need that for your criminal record.”

“Eren Jaëger.” 

Levi rubbed his temples again. The kid was a nutcase that if not for the breaking and entering and weird fixation on Eren Jaëger, Levi would like to crack him open and stick his dick in. 

“Kid, you’re going to be charged for breaking and entering.” 

Rolling over, there was a frown on Eren’s face. “Are you high, old man? I’m breaking _out,_ not _in_. Didn’t Petra show you the ropes around here?” Then his frown deepened. “Fuck her and stupid afro Oluo! I was so close to getting out of this dump last time and they just _had_ to bring me back. It should all be in that stupid manual of theirs.”

“The…manual?” Levi really couldn’t tell where this was going. 

Eren rolled his eyes and adopted a high-pitched voice. “‘ _Rule Number Two: Lock up the place. Don’t let the SB get out’._ That’s what they call me, ‘SB’. For ‘Suicide Bastard’. Fuck Horseface Jean. Thanks to him, now all the new night watchmen are calling me that! It’s been 2000 fucking years and he still makes sure that nickname sticks!”

“So…you stay in the museum after-hours…to break out later.” Levi hypothesized. It was a weak attempt, and the cop in him screamed that it doesn’t make sense; wouldn’t hold up in court, wouldn’t prove anything beyond fucking reason of doubt. Probably won’t even get a judge to sign an arrest warrant. 

“Sweet Sina.” Eren moaned, making Levi feel more stupid by the second. 

Eren, Petra, and god-knows-who else were in on some practical joke against him, and Levi was liking this game even less than Izzy In The Middle Version 2.0. 

“I…the others…we _live_ in the fucking museum. You see us every day, don’t you? You and the other filth who come to gawk at us every day; coming and leaving as you please while we’re stuck inside those museum walls. Dude, you have no idea how humiliating it is; to be like caged cattle as you are watched by these sick outsider monsters.” 

_Oh my god._ Now Levi was sure his heart was about to give out. There was that insistent feeling in his gut again; he was on the brink of something, something that he might have known for a while. Yes, he affirmed, he probably had known for a while — ever since that night at the bar. But reason and logic, of course, would dictate this theory of his to be ludicrous. 

He took a deep breath. “Eren —” _Oh God,_ he loved saying that name. “— what you’re saying is —”

Eren weakly raised his left hand before cringing and bring it back to caress his groin. “Dude, first, what do I call you?”

Levi stared. 

“What’s Satan’s name?” 

“Levi.” He replied, and fought off the urge to plant his boot in Eren’s face. 

“Levi,” his name was smooth and velvety coming from that mouth. Levi liked to think his name sounded right coming from that mouth, much like how Eren’s does on his. 

“Levi dude, let’s get out of here and I can maybe explain a few things that Petra thought you’d be better off finding out yourself? Cuz I know she’s really into that hands-on approach and shit but obviously, it’s not working right now.” He shook his head sagely before glancing around with a vigilant eye. “It’s not safe here; we need to go before _they_ come.”

“They? What, you’ve got more cosplayer buddies in tow?”

Suddenly, the ground shook and the hairs on Levi’s arms stood up like uniformed soldiers. Then a deep, guttural growl came from the direction of the museum’s opened front doors. 

“Ah, here they come.” 

The creature ducked its head as it climbed out of the museum entrance, its heavy footfalls causing tremors in the ground as it moved towards them. Now only a few yards away, drool pooled out of its gaping mouth as it stared down its prey. As Levi’s legs leadened and his heart drilled its way into his gut, recognition hit. 

“Ah,” he said dryly, remembering Hange crooning over the 4-meter blonde giant the day it was shipped to the museum with its 7-meter companion. He liked it much more as just a dead carcass Hange fawned over. 

He needed to call Petra; maybe she had another instruction manual for this type of thing. Levi would gladly swallow his inner ex-cop’s wounded ego if some dirty brochure would keep him from getting eaten on the job (which, unfortunately, he wasn’t trained for on the force). 

He _really_ needed to call Petra. With Sawney’s pillar-like fingers caging around him and Eren still on the ground clutching between his legs, it seems Levi was expected to fight a 15-meter giant after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Apologies for the long wait. I just started my first internship and the 4-hour commute per day pretty much sapped my energy. Things have settled down now and I'm hoping to update this story at least biweekly (but I'm gunning for weekly updates!).
> 
> Next Chapter Preview: Levi is confused and the 104th Training Corps is introduced. Eren gets mad when an accident causes one of his friends to be half the wax model he used to be.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reviewed/bookmarked/subscribed or left kudos! They are greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Jumped on the Ereri bandwagon and thought why the hell wouldn't my first fanfic be about these two cuties?


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